


Who Do You Think You Are?

by Jamie_Angel



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Crossdressing, Crush at First Sight, Falling In Love, Kingdoms, M/M, Princes & Princesses, Royalty, Weddings, adam is still Like That he#s just royal and not used to it, and he hates it, background bluesey if you squint (later on), blue is sick but gets better don't worry, kind of?, maura/calla/persephone background, or should i say queendoms, ronan is a prince, yall know what kind of AU this is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29782104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamie_Angel/pseuds/Jamie_Angel
Summary: Adam's adopted sister, Blue, has fallen sick the day before her suitor's ball. To cancel it would be to show weaknesses.So Adam's mothers ask him to pretend to be Blue, just once, in public.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Who Do You Think You Are?

Adam tapped on the windowsill, unsure what to do with his time, and gazes down at the palace garden. Usually, he’d be spending time with Blue, but she had come down with a cold and had been absolutely floored by it. She had to spend most of her time in bed, sleeping. When she was awake she didn’t have much energy.  
  
There was a knock at his door.  
  
“Come in!” He called.  
  
One of his mothers, Persephone, peaked her head around the doorframe. She looked like a cloud, with her fluffy light blonde hair and her fluffier white dress. Her black eyes found Adam next to the window and focused on his with, for her, panic.  
  
“Is everything ok?” He asked immediately.  
  
Persephone pursed her lips. “I need you to come with me.”  
  
This worried Adam. His mother coming to check in on him wasn’t an odd thing. She did it a lot. However, her not telling him what was happening straight away _was_ an odd thing. But he nodded and followed her out of his room.   
  
The servants in the hallway bow and smile as they pass by. The hallway is made from the same grey stone as the rest of the castle, with a long dark blue carpet and velvet drapes a shade or two lighter. Big oak doors staple the walls at regular intervals, with bronze nameplates marking the room names.  
  
Persephone led Adam down the long hallway, right to the end, where Blue’s room is.  
  
Dread gnawed at Adam’s gut. He’d been worrying about Blue ever since she’d gotten sick, and now he was sure she had gotten worse. Why else would Persephone be leading him here?   
  
His mother pushed the door open. Blue had decked her room out by draping silks and various torn out book pages and hand painted art. Blue herself was lying in her bed, looking worn out but more spritely that the other days Adam had seen her.  
  
Relief surged through Adam’s chest, and he hurries to her bedside before noting his other mothers, Maura and Calla, already sitting on a cream sofa pulled over to the side of the bed. He stops short, before bowing and saying, “Your highnesses.”  
  
Calla snorts and rolls her eyes at him. For her, that’s affection. She says, “Adam, we’ve been over this. You don’t need to address us formally unless we’re in public.”  
  
Adam nods and perches next to Blue’s feet.  
  
“How are you doing?” He asks her.  
  
She has dark circles under her eyes and her brown skin is sallow and sweat-slicked. Her dark hair is matted to her forehead.   
  
“I’ve been better.” She says, and her voice is all weak and scratchy.  
  
Adam looks to Persephone, confused about why she brought him here. She lays a hand on Maura’s shoulder and gives her a look. The look said this: _tell him_.  
  
Maura sighs and looks between her children. “The thing is,” She says, sounding resigned, “Greywaren is sending their princes over to be suitors to Blue-”  
  
“Which sucks, by the way,” Blue supplies.  
  
Maura nods, “But we can’t have the other kingdoms learning of her illness.”  
  
“So what are you going to do?” Adam asks.  
  
Maura inhales hugely, “Your mothers and I were thinking about...having you pretend to be her.”  
  
“I- what?” Adam asks, mouth agape, “I look nothing like her!”  
  
Blue says, “I told them it was a bad plan, but no one listens to me, do they-”  
  
“Blue,” Maura warns, but she looks sympathetically, “We keep both of you out of the public eye, so no one knows what either of you look like. I’m really sorry, Adam. If you don’t want to, we can just tell Greywaren that Blue’s ill and we’ll have to reschedule the ball.”  
  
Adam gritted his teeth. The news of Blue’s illness would spread quickly and cast doubt on the royal family of Cabeswater’s integrity. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers and ground out, “I’ll do it. Just this once.”  
  
Persephone softly says, “Adam, you shouldn’t feel pressured to do this. We know it’s a lot to ask.”  
  
“No, no.” He says, “You need the alliance with Greywaren, and it’ll only be for the _one_ ball. Blue can just turn down the suitors.”  
  
“Which I would’ve done anyway .” Blue agrees, “I will marry for love and nothing else. And even then, it’s a close call.”  
  
Calla pats Blue’s knee, “We know.”  
  
“So it’s settled,” Maura says with a smile at Blue and Adam, “There’s one week until the ball.”  
  
___  
  
Ronan was fucking _tired_ of this prince shit.  
  
This fancy-ass ball is more than he can take, with all the velvet drapes and the hard wooden floors. Some people are dancing, making the ball room full of swirling skirts and aloof smiles.   
  
But Ronan leans against the wall sending glares to everyone who makes eye contact with him, including his younger brother Matthew, who was currently with some noble or another, and _especially_ his older brother Declan, who was trying to sweet talk one of the queens and failing.  
  
The princess hadn’t been announced yet, thank his luck, and Ronan really can’t be arsed dealing with trying to suck up to some spoilt princess.  
  
“Princess Blue Sargent of Cabeswater.” Someone announces.  
  
Ronan looks up at of mere curiosity. Because Cabeswater is so secretive about the royal children, Ronan knew little about them aside from the fact that there is one princess and one princess, and one is adopted and one is biologically one of the Queen’s children, though no one is sure which.  
  
The woman at the top of the stairs is fine-boned and pretty in a haunted way. She has lightly curled dust-coloured hair down to her shoulders, and her eyes are a hard colour to discern. Her gown is a light sage green with a sweetheart neckline and gilded golden detailing. Birds are embroidered along the hem line.  
  
Ronan looked down again. She was pretty, but not his type. His type, of course, was men. But, as Declan forever reminded him, not many kingdoms were willing to marry their princes of the other princes. Saying that, though, Ronan didn’t exactly think that he would have this problem with this _particular_ kingdom, because there were three queens. Not exactly conventional.   
  
Across the room, Declan catches his eye and glares, turning his head toward the princess. Ronan exhales sharply through his nose but pushes off from the wall and navigates his way through the poofy dresses and tailored suits to where the princess was standing. Up close, she was even more the echo of beauty, with sharp cheekbones and a slanting nose. Her eyes have this calculating element to them, like she’s picking everyone apart.  
  
When Ronan gets to her, she’s talking to a pale, slightly rumpled looking boy. She’s wearing a fierce scowl, and adjusting her dress around her knees.  
  
Before Ronan can begrudgingly invite the princess to dance, he becomes aware of a presence at his side.   
  
The presence says, “You remind me of a snake.”  
  
Ronan raised one eyebrow at the woman beside him. She was tall and dark skinned, with a small mouth and a dress the colour of plum. He knew who she was – Queen Calla.   
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“I don’t think you’re a good fit for my daughter.” She says simply.  
  
He snorts, “For the record, neither do I. My brothers making me talk to her.”  
  
“Yes, I’ve met your brother. He’s very boring.”  
  
The side of Ronan’s mouth curls up. He liked this woman, “You can say that again.”  
  
The princess descends the steps, skirt swirling around her ankles, and comes to stand in front of Ronan. Her cool eyes assess him with complete apathy, and then she turns to Queen Calla.  
  
“Mother.” She says, with a small curtsey.  
  
“Daughter.” The queen replies with an incline of her head.   
  
Ronan gives a short bow, “Princess Blue.”  
  
She curtseys, “Prince Ronan. Do you care to dance?”  
  
He’s not one for lying, so he just doesn’t say anything, instead offering his arm. Princess Blue rests her long-fingered hand on his forearm, palm down, and together they sweep of the ballroom floor.  
  
He puts a hand on her hip, and she places one on his shoulder. They’re both roughly the same height. They dance uncaringly, as if Ronan wasn’t the only one completely disinterested in this event.   
  
“You didn’t strike me as someone willing to come to events like this.” The princess says.  
  
“I’m not.” Ronan tells her, “My brother, _Declan_ ,” he spits the name like acid, “forces me to attend every single one.”  
  
“You’ve never wanted to come?”  
  
Ronan can’t fathom her curiosity in the subject, but he answers her anyway, “Not a single one.”  
  
“I think,” She starts slowly. The Cabeswater accent that she’s evidently trying to hide sands the edges off all her letters, “that that should probably offend me.”  
  
“It’s nothing personal.” He says, “Just a general dislike for”- he unclasps their joint hands to gesture vaguely at the ballroom, the finery-“all of this.”  
  
The princess nods as if this is perfectly understandable, “I hated this place when I first got here.”  
  
So, she _is_ the adopted one, “Big shock? The castle and all that?”  
  
“There’s just been so much money, - and it’s all been frivolously spent on things nobody needs. My si- brother makes all of their own decorations for their room. Re-uses old dresses and books, and the like.”  
  
It’s quite the passionate speech, Ronan thinks. It’s also incredibly interesting for _other_ reasons. Namely, the slip up. When referring to their “brother”, they nearly called them their sister.  
  
It’s like a lightbulb pings on over Ronan’s head. His mouth curls up at the corner, and he says in a quiet voice, as not to be overhead, “You’re not the princess, are you?”  
  



End file.
